


No hay dos sin tres

by Roterwolkenvogel



Category: The Magnificent Seven (2016)
Genre: (no bestiality don't worry), Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Fluff, M/M, but for that I am sorry, everyone lives/nobody died, horse pregnancy, innacurate gender of Vasquez' horse, no smut either, we all ship Horne with Leni Frankel right?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-29
Updated: 2018-08-29
Packaged: 2019-07-04 04:09:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15833469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roterwolkenvogel/pseuds/Roterwolkenvogel
Summary: >> “I have three Marias“, Vasquez tells the drunk Irishman swaying lightly in front of him and he means it. <<Vasquez, his Marias and Joshua Faraday.





	No hay dos sin tres

**Author's Note:**

> After innocently re-watching “The Magnificent Seven” as a bedtime movie, I fell into a rabbit hole where I watched the damn film every night for the past two weeks straight and read all available Faraday/Vasquez fics twice.  
> Figured the only way to exorcise this obsession was writing those pesky plotbunnies that decided I now needed to be overwhelmed by them. Despite, you know, not really writing anymore.
> 
> This actually started with the vague idea that Jack would of course be like his human “the world greatest lover” and knock up Vasquez’ horse (which I am reasonably sure is a gelding in the movie) and then it just totally went away from me, go figure.
> 
> English is not my first language, I greatly appreciate pointers if anything is wrong and Spanish is courtesy of Google because so far my colleague has only taught me how to say “thank you” and “you’re welcome” (and I have a post-it telling me how to say that she’s out of office if any of our Italian or Spanish customers are calling).

“ _I have three Marias_ “, Vasquez tells the drunk Irishman swaying lightly in front of him and he means it.

 

Firstly, there is Maria Vasquez, his _madre_. She's a hard working woman, his mother, who takes every punch life throws at her with the acceptance of the deeply religious. By the time Vasquez himself is old enough to walk out into the world to make a name for himself, his mother has buried a man and two sons.

She gifts him her medallion, ties it around his neck with soft leather strips and sends him off with a prayer.

 

He used to send back money whenever he could, still would do it if the bounty on his head would not make it impossible and dangerous. He does not know if she is even still alive or if his money is just going to some anonymous person living a good life on his dime, but as long as he sends it, he can tell himself that she is alive and well.

 

The second Maria is the revolver he uses to blow a hole into the ranger's head for coming onto him.

It's not that he's adverse to a quick tumble in the hay with men, but he prefers those on his own terms and not a drunkard pressing himself against him and whispering threats if Vasquez doesn't put his hand down his pants.

 

The weapon reminds him of his mother as it just accepts the reason it is on this earth, a way to blow out a man’s brain.

 

The third is Maria the horse. She's not the best horse he's ever had, much too docile for his liking, but she has no strong feelings about her sudden change of ownership and she doesn't flinch and panic at the bullets ricocheting around them so he doesn't mind overly much.

 

Beggars can't be choosers and she proves to be good company as they hide.

 

|||

 

He’s still not sure if it was wise to let Sam Chisolm bully him into signing up on this suicide mission but when he tells the others that he has nowhere else to be in the wake of Goodnight’s flight, he means it.

 

There is a strange kind of kinship between him and these other men and if that kinship leans mostly towards a drunk gambler, well, they are none the wiser.

 

Vasquez tends to keep his cards close to his heart and he’s not about to start lying them out just because Faraday is looking at him with a strange glint in his eyes. There’s no time to get distracted, not with Bogue and his men on their way and the blood they are ready to spill come dawn.

 

|||

 

The sound the gatling gun makes upon exploding is an unholy screech of bending metal and the deafening boom of the explosion.

 

Vasquez would swear to his dying day that the impact the gun has upon falling back to the ground in pieces shakes the very earth. He's experienced earthquakes back in Mexico but this, despite being shorter, is much more sinister.

 

Then it hits him. “ _Guero_!“, he yells and charges out of his hideout, grabs the next horse's reins and steers the animal out of Rose Creek, towards the open field where smoke is cloying and thick.

 

He can hear hoof beats behind him and a quick look over his shoulder reveals it to be Red Harvest and not a Blackstone.

 

The ride to the site of the explosion can't be more than a minute or two but it feels like hours until he can get off the horse, scanning the grass for the body of his idiotic _guerito_.

 

It's Red, who finds Faraday, curled into a little ball as of to shield his body from the debris. There's a lot of blood and his hands come back coated red as he frantically pats down the Irishman, feeling for a pulse.

 

There is none.

 

He feels bile rise up as he grabs the limp wrist harder, willing himself to feel something, anything...

 

A small groan sounds, suddenly, and his head snaps up where he was half curled around the man's arm and he can see Faraday's eyes flutter, his mouth move, before he drops back into unconsciousness.

 

He is incredible glad for Red's help, as they get Faraday in the saddle with him, carefully, as if that'd help in the face of his multiple injuries.

 

He's afraid Faraday might die when he rides back to the town with his lifeless body in his arms. The doctor has taken up shop in the Elysium, the wooden planks of the floor already stained with blood.

The noise of the wounded and dying makes a cacophony of pain and Vasquez grunts when he and Red carry Faraday inside, carefully depositing him on one of the tables.

 

Leni Frankel, apron blood stained, comes over and clasps a hand over her mouth to stop the noise of shock. There's needle and thread in her hand and Vasquez wonders why she's taken up now of all times to take up mending.

 

Quickly he learns that she's not stitching cloth but people when she's quick to assist the doctor, sewing together flesh as Vasquez lies half on top of Faraday to keep the other man from trashing around and falling off the table.

 

There’s a broken laugh or a sob lodged in this throat as he remembers that he had wanted to touch Faraday, let his hands roam all over his body, press him down into a mattress, loom over him… and now he has him under him and he wishes it would have never happened. Not like this.

 

The doctor makes quick work, or at least as quick as possible when he more or less has to fix Faraday together from scraps. Red has left halfway through the procedure and now ambles back in with a bucket that smells sweetly of honey.

 

“My people”, he explains: “we use honey to help wounds to heal. Herbs, too.”

 

It’s the longest sentence Vasquez has heard him say so far and he is desperate enough to allow him to slather Faraday in honey like a piece of pork. Bandages too, so many that the man soon looks like a swaddled babe.

 

By now, the doctor has left them to their own devices, muttering under his breath about Natives and their superstations but he at least has made no move to stop them.

Leni smiles at them as Red finished tying the wraps and lets them know that they can try to get Faraday upstairs, to get him out of the thick of it.

 

The stairs feel like an eternity, Vasquez supporting his front, Red holding his feet as they make their slow ascent.

 

|||

 

Much can be said about the late Mr. Gavin but he at least did not cheap out on his girls’ rooms so they can settle Faraday into a surprisingly huge bed with fresh linens.

 

Red gives him a curious glance, head cocked like a bird, before he carefully drags the blanket over Faraday’s still body.

 

“Sleep”, he says to Vasquez before he moves out of the room, shutting the door behind him silently.

 

Sleep, ha! That’s as far from his mind as it gets, so Vasquez folds his large frame into a too small chair he dragged next to the bed and resolves to keep vigil.

 

The last time he had done that had been by his _abuela_ ’s bedside, when she was bedridden for the very last time. He had been but five years old and had continued to doze off while he sat in his _madre_ ’s lap, interspersed with wakeful moments when the whispers of the two women had woken him up.

 

He had come to true wakefulness when his mother’s sobs had shaken his tiny body and he had seen his grandmother lying on the bed, unmoving, unseeing.

 

He is determined to not nod off, to stay awake to wade of the _espiritos malignos_ that roam the earth to find souls half detached from their bodies to take them away.

 

|||

 

Vasquez wakes with a start when he falls off the chair and the sure fire knowledge that he failed.

 

It takes him a moment to find his bearings, sitting in a heap on the floor and then he scrambles up as fast as his body lets him to get closer to the prone from on the bed.

 

Faraday is still unconscious but alive, the soft rise and fall of his chest the only indication Vasquez has that it’s not over yet.

 

Outside, the world is still dark and silent and he sinks back onto the edge of the bed, buries his face in his hands and just breathes.

 

This is setting up to be a long, long wait.

 

|||

 

He enters the sick room one warm summer day in July and leaves it again in October, to the first whispers of snow and cold.

 

Of course, there’s much that lies between both dates, days and nights spent at the bedside of a man who, at first, had been unresponsive and then, soon enough, a constantly nagging _persona fastidiosa_ who not only enrages the doctor but drives away all well-meaning visitors who balk at his crude words.

 

The other changes are more subtle. He comes out to the paddock where their horses are frolicking to catch some fresh air and he can see that Maria has put on some weight.

He blames it on not enough exercise and too much of the fat grass and resolves to have her out and about more.

 

Emma Cullen finds him at the paddock. She looks tired, worn and for a brief moment he fears she might break down crying.

 

She doesn't, instead she pats Maria and turns to speak: “Gavin had no living relatives, so I offered to take over the Elysium. Not much use having a farm when I can't find any help.“

 

“I am sorry, we should have-“, he starts but she shakes her head: “You had other things on your plate. Billy and Goodnight too. Sam helped. Red does, still. But it holds too many memories. So I was wondering if you want to have it? The farm, I mean.“

 

He is speechless for much longer than he'd like to admit. He was never close to Emma, apart from a helping hand in the beginning before Faraday's recuperation took up most of his time.

 

“Why?“, he asks.

 

“You and Faraday, you remind me of me and Matthew. It would do you good, to have some peace and quiet“, she answers, and when he doesn't respond, she adds: “Find me when you know. I'm not about to kick Faraday out.“

 

After she leaves, he stands for quite a while longer with Maria, her head pressed into his arm and his hand mindlessly patting her neck.

 

Then he goes to find Billy and Goodnight.

 

|||

 

“She offered me the farm, _por el amor de dios_!“, Vasquez is pacing between the beds of Billy and Goodnight, hands gesticulating wildly: “I don't get why she hasn't offered it to you two!“

 

“We've made it abundantly clear that we'd be out of here as soon as our condition allows“, Goodnight says from his chair: “And it's not much difference between Billy and me and Faraday and you, if that is what she's aiming for.“

 

That brings Vasquez up short: “There is no 'Faraday and me', not like you two!“

 

“No?“, now Goodnight just sounds bewildered.

 

Billy, seated next to him, sides casually pressed together, sighs and squares up for one of his rare speeches: “Look Vasquez, no hard feelings but we thought that was why you looked for Goodnight and me and not Sam or Red or Horne. Because we understand. You spent the past months huddled down at Faraday's bedside and we only saw you when we came to visit our resident gambler.“

 

There is no accusation in his tone, but Vasquez still flinches. It is true that he has spent the past months pretty much exclusively with Faraday, unless Sam made him go out and he inevitable got roped into a repair project of the townsfolk, but even then he rarely saw the others.

He's pretty sure he never visited Billy and Goodnight before and the shame burns a red hot line in his stomach.

 

“So you get why we got to the conclusion we did“, Goodnight finishes for his lover.

 

And Vasquez gets it, he does, not only because he knows how it must have looked but also because he longs for it.

 

He might not have, in the beginning, when Faraday nearly fell off his horse and mumbled “Oh good, we got us a Mexican.“, but you don't get ready for certain death with a man up close and personal and develop some sort of feelings.

At least he didn't.

That he never acted on it? Semantics.

That Faraday never showed any inclination for the same? Semantics too.

 

„There is something, right?“, Goodnight presses on and Vasquez exhales.

“Thank you for the talk“, he says and gets the hell out of the room.

 

|||

 

Inevitable, his steps find the familiar path to Faraday's room, as they always do.

 

The other man is propped up in bed, scowling at the cards in his hands, but turns as soon as he hears the door screech in its hinges.

 

His smile could blind a lesser person and Vasquez gives himself the time to appreciate it, before he lets the door fall shut and takes his customary spot on the visitor's chair.

 

“Where've you been?!“, Faraday exclaims: “I thought you had left me for good when I woke up and you weren't there!“

 

“Had to take a look at our horses“, he replies easily: “Jack's still an ass.“

That gets him a card thrown at his face, falling flat quite a while before it even reaches him.

 

“Jack's an angel, _cabrón_ “, Faraday retorts, but there's no real heat behind his words.

 

“If you say so, _guero_ “, Vasquez grins at him and they lapse into comfortable silence, broken only by Faraday shuffling his cards and his soft swears when he drops one every so often.

 

“You know“, he starts after a while: “Emma came by today. Said she'll take over the Elysium, told me not to worry about the room.“

 

Vasquez is sure his heart stops for a beat, he knows what is coming and yet-

 

“She asked if we want the farm instead?“, Faraday sounds so hopeful when he finishes the sentence, like he can't imagine anything better.

“Would be nice, wouldn't it, Vas? Getting out of here, somewhere quiet!“

 

“You haven't done a day of honest work ever, _guero_ “, Vasquez replies and the other man grins at him: “That's why I have you, no?“

 

For the second time in a day, Vasquez gets up and leaves a room. This time he doesn't bother with niceties.

 

|||

 

He doesn't talk to Faraday for the next week, instead occupying himself with helping the increasingly bewildered townspeople putting the finishing touches to the remaining repair work.

 

Then he goes to find Maria.

 

She’s is separated from the others and Red is sitting on the fence, holding a feeding through, Maria's head submerged so that only her ears are visible.

 

“Stop fattening up my horse“, Vasquez says without heat and Red looks at him like he's crazy.

 

You can't ride her“, Red says when Vasquez shakes the bridle and now it's his turn to look like the other is crazy.

 

“Why not?“, he asks.

 

“She's with foal“, Red answers matter of factly, as if it's the most natural thing in the world.

Which it is, but not for his Maria! He says as much to the Native, who rolls his eyes and mutters something that sounds like “Their horses got it together sooner than them“ under his breath.

 

“Take Jack instead“, he adds more clearly and Vasquez makes a rude gesture towards him. He's got an idea who might be responsible for Maria's condition and this does not endear him any more to the beast.

 

“If you don’t want, then Faraday will be happy to see you. He asked about you. Constantly. It’s Vasquez here, Vasquez there”, Red has turned back to Maria, tickling her behind her ears like she prefers it.

 

“I don’t want to”, Vasquez replies sullenly and makes a theme out of slipping out of conversations by putting the bridle back and leaving Maria with the human she apparently greatly prefers at the moment.

 

|||

Vasquez has expected any of the remaining seven to find him for a stern talking to, but he is still surprised that it is Horne, of all people.

 

He doesn’t mind the old man, but his overly religious demeanour did not necessarily lead itself to the assumption that he’d be there for this whole mess, unnatural inclinations and all. Vasquez says as much and the older man smiles at him, sadly.

 

“Love is love in the eyes of Our Lord”, he answers and pats Vasquez’ shoulder in a manner meant to be comforting: “Those who judge someone based on who they love have misunderstood His words.”

 

It feels like absolution to hear those words, even if the man who speaks them might be certifiable insane. He’s not the preacher but Vasquez could not care less about this particular topic, what he cares for are the six other men he has struck up an unlikely friendship with. And if they were okay with what was likely to happen…

 

“You haven’t seen any of us giving Billy and Goodnight any slack, right?”, Horne seems to be picking up his train of thought: “Why do you think we would with you and Joshua? It is plain to see what is developing between us, even if Joshua is a bit slow on the uptake.”

 

“Thanks Jack”, Vasquez says and he means it.

 

|||

 

In the end, he goes to find Sam before the man finds him, figuring that their erstwhile leader might want to have a word with him too.

 

He finds him with the horses, Red still sitting on the fence of Maria’s pen.

 

“You figured it out, didn’t you?”, Sam says as he approaches.

 

“I reckon I did”, Vasquez replies: “I’m still not forgiving him for his horse knocking up my girl.”

 

“Fair enough”, Sam replies easily and adds: “Go to him. He’s gotten himself into quite a snit over you and it is tiring dealing with him like this.”

 

For once, Vasquez is dismissed out of a conversation. He goes.

 

|||

 

Faraday is in right a mood, he can tell when he stomps up the chairs. The yelling and cursing can be heard on the first floor already and he guesses that the doctor must be in for a check-up, something Faraday loathed more than anything else.

 

He is right when he pushes open the door and comes face to face with the doctor, looking more than a little weary and put out.

 

“He’s all yours”, he says and squeezes past Vasquez, hurrying down the floor.

 

“Fuck off”, Faraday yells, his back to the door, slightly curled up.

 

“You sure about that, _guero_?”, he asks, amused despite himself.

 

Silence. Then: “You’re still angry with me, Vas?”

 

“Never was”, it’s not a lie, just a slight alteration of the truth.

 

“You ran out on me and I haven’t seen you since. Don’t know what you think a guy would think about that.”

 

He closes the door and makes his way over to the bed, seating himself on the edge. Faraday still has not turned around so he resorts to lying a hand on the broad back before him.

 

“We can move out to Emma’s, if you want.”

 

“I want but you do not.”

 

“Why do you think so?”

 

Faraday turns around, shaking off Vasquez’ hand in the process. He has an odd look in his eyes, something Vasquez can’t quite place.

 

“When I suggested we do, you… did not react like I expected you to.”

 

“You told me I was only good to work for you, what did you expect!?”, Vasquez throws a hand over his face, ignoring the surprised exhale of his bed mate.

 

“I’m an idiot, Vas.”

 

“ _Sí, es usted_.”

 

“I didn’t mean it like that! I just… ran my mouth before thinking. Like I always do. I just wanted to be with you somewhere, anywhere and- I’m bad at this, really bad, Vas”, he sounds tired, small.

 

“I can tell”, Vasquez says softly, but puts his hand back on Faraday, this time on his shoulder.

 

Their eyes meet for a brief moment, then Faraday leans his head towards the hand, his beard tickling Vasquez.

 

Vasquez in turn goes still, like a startled animal and doesn’t dare to breathe. They stay like this, for long moments until Vasquez gathers up the courage to move his hand so that he cups Faraday’s cheek, softly.

 

“Like this”, Faraday says.

 

“Oh”, Vasquez sighs.

 

|||

 

It does not get easier, afterwards. Life’s not a fairy-tale, no matter what his _abuela_ tried to tell him.

 

Faraday continues to be a most ornery patient, but the good doctor is happy enough to assist in moving him out to Emma’s old place and let Vasquez handle the brunt of things.

And he does improve, slowly but surely, so that when Christmas comes around, he is actually able to walk out to see the snow falling softly around them.

 

There’s a Christmas dinner waiting for them at the Elysium Hotel tonight and Emma has promised to send Teddy over with a wagon to pick them up.

 

So it is not all as bleak as it had looked at first, even if the thing between them is still at large unspoken and unacted on. They still sleep in separate beds and apart from carefully calculated touches here and there, nothing has happened since that one afternoon in the room.

 

Vasquez tells himself that he does not mind, that he is glad for what he has and that he has it at all, but it still is inviting to sling an arm around Faraday’s waist as he stands in the doorway and lean his head onto his shoulder to watch the snow fall.

 

Faraday, of course, has to break the moment: “I don’t know how to tell you this, but Maria is getting fat. Aren’t you exercising her?”

 

He exhales, sharply, lets go of Faraday’s waist and gets in front of the other man, crossing his arms.

 

“Your beast knocked up my girl“, he whispers into the space between them and Faraday barks out a laugh.

 

Then Faraday leans forward, carefully keeping hold of the doorframe and bumps their foreheads together.

 

“We’re going to be grandparents, Vas” and the sentence is as ridiculous as the whole situation so Vasquez shakes his head, cups the other man’s face and plants a kiss onto his mouth.

 

|||

 

Spring sneaks up on them softly with the first flowers breaking through the ground.

 

Faraday is delighted at it, making his ways out to the front porch on most days to sit in the rocking chair he got from god knows where, bundled in blankets, and just watches the world go by.

His health has improved notably, still not yet enough to be of actual use for all the things to be done around the farm, but Vasquez feels an odd sense of pride at providing these for him.

 

They have settled into a comfortable routine that even Billy and Goodnight describe as ‘sickeningly sweet’. The others are still here in Rose Creek with them, Horne finally having abandoned all pretence and moving in with Leni Frankel around January, Billy and Goodnight helping Emma at the Elysium and Sam and Red taking up rooms at the boarding house, the former as an interim sheriff, the later as his shadow.

 

If pressed, Red will claim that his willingness to stake out with them is tied to his concern over Maria’s wellbeing, something Vasquez finds greatly amusing.

“I grew up at a farm, you know”, he says more than once: “I know how animals give birth.”

 

Red just gives him an unimpressed glared, clearly not impressed with his laudations and after a while he leaves it be. He doesn’t mind Red cooing over his mare, he has his hands full with Jack the horse.

 

Faraday has asked him, no, begged him, to take his beloved stallion out and about and not let him rot in the stables they are still renting.

 

Vasquez has reluctantly accepted, if only to have the stable owner still in their favour as Jack, as agitated and un-moved he was, has started acting out more than usual.

He has the bite marks, bruises and cuts to prove that the damn horse still likes no one but Faraday, but with a lot of coaxing and bribing – all of it undeserved in his opinion – they have reached a truce where Jack at least lets him pretend he has him under control.

 

They usually go to the barn together, Faraday on the bored old gelding on loan by the school teacher Josiah and Vasquez by foot. Jack is running around like crazy since he saw them coming, so he abandons Faraday at the fence and leaves them to reunite, while he goes to find Maria, like he is wont to do before he takes on the stallion.

 

Maria is not in her paddock and when he scans the other horses, it's just a varying amount of brown and black, no sliver of Maria's white.

 

His curses draw Faraday's attention and he stalks over to where his _guero_ is hanging at the fence, Jack's muzzle pressed into his arm.

 

“Can't find Maria“, he growls and glares at Jack, who pays him no mind. Faraday grimaces at him: “Stop glaring at him! He doesn't have her, right boy?“

 

Vasquez would like to point out that Jack might not have her but is definitely to blame but Red chooses that moment to amble out of the stable connected to the paddock.

He has reins in his hand and from the dark quarter of the stable doors comes a white shape, delicately setting hooves onto the grassy path. Next to her, pressed to her flanks is a small black foal, stumbling along on shaky legs.

 

Faraday coos and Vasquez can't help the burst of pride in his heart.

 

Maria's foal is a gorgeous thing, long legged and lean and Jack cranes his neck as Red gets them in the pen next to his.

 

“Our horses make pretty babies“, Faraday comments and Vasquez can't deny the truth about it.


End file.
